


Foundations

by tiigi



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Child Neglect, Explicit Sexual Content, Family Bonding, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Light Dom/sub, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:33:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21964375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiigi/pseuds/tiigi
Summary: Fuck them, Kylo thinks to himself as he faces down his biological father, and fuck this family too. They left him as a kid, so young that his only memories of them are faceless and blurry. Anakin had been the one to raise him, to mould him, tocreateKylo Ren.Anakin hadn’t been an unsuitable guardian when his parents were abandoning him.***After Anakin is arrested, Kylo is sent to live with his biological parents and their extended family. He isn’t too happy about the whole thing, but at least Hux, Rey’s dorky friend, seems nice.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 36
Kudos: 87





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no knowledge of the legal system for this sort of thing in America so please take all of at face value :D also, I apologise in advance if everyone seems out of character. This is my first time writing for the fandom and I haven’t quite figured the characters out yet.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Kylo doesn’t know what to expect as he pushes through the crowd at the airport. Half of him is imagining twenty strangers lined up in front of him, claiming to be his new family and wanting to take him away to a strange new place. The other, more logical half of his brain is telling him it’s much more likely that no one will show up, and he’ll be forced to contact his social worker again. It was a miracle he managed to convince Phasma to let him fly on his own in the first place– he can only imagine how irritated she’ll be if it goes wrong.

In reality, what he finds is underwhelming all round. There’s a single man standing alone by a vending machine, holding a cardboard sign with ‘Ben Solo’ scrawled in an almost illegible handwriting. He has a vague resemblance to Kylo, he thinks, but he wouldn’t have been able to pick this man out of a crowd if Phasma hadn’t shown Kylo a picture of him earlier.

The airport is fairly busy, but Kylo doesn’t have nearly as much trouble pushing through the crowd as he pretends. He’s trying to give himself time to think, time to come up with something to say before he reaches Han Solo, but he can’t think of anything and after a while of aimless shoving he has to bite the bullet.

Kylo sees the exact second that Han recognises him. His eyes widen just slightly and he straightens up, knuckles turning white where he’s gripping the cardboard sign. Kylo wonders what picture they used to show Han and Leia and whatever other family member wanted to see: probably the one of Kylo at the police station, after they just arrested Anakin. He looks like a sulky teenager in that one, black hair covering most of his face, eyes dark and sullen glaring at the camera.

He’d known then that he wouldn’t be able to go back to life as normal: that’s why he’d looked so angry in the picture. Anakin had been arrested, Kylo had been taken in and questioned for about an hour. He’d been thinking about how stressful it was going to be to get emancipated before his eighteenth birthday when Phasma came in and told him the news. 

He wasn’t going to be able to get emancipated. He needed an ‘evaluation’ - about which Kylo’s questions had ultimately been ignored - and social services had deemed him unsuitable for emancipation. _As a result, Ben, we’re going to have to contact your biological parents._

_Fuck them,_ Kylo thinks to himself as he faces down his biological father, _and fuck this family too._ They left him as a kid, so young that his only memories of them are faceless and blurry. Anakin had been the one to raise him, to mould him, to _create_ Kylo Ren. 

Anakin hadn’t been an unsuitable guardian when his parents were abandoning him.

“Are you… Ben?” Han asks, hesitant, quiet in the din of the crowd. He looks disbelieving somehow, like the person he’s looking at in front of him shouldn’t really be there. Kylo feels the same way, but he’s doing his best to mask his panic under a careful mask of indifference. If it slips, hopefully it will show his bitter resentment and rage rather than the hurt that lays under it all.

“No,” Kylo says, because he wants to make this explicitly clear as early on as possible. Han blinks in confusion. “I don’t use that name anymore. It’s Kylo now.”

There’s a brief second in which Han processes Kylo’s words. Kylo watches with blank curiosity, head tilted just barely to the right, to see what his father will do. If he has any problem with Kylo’s rejection of his birth name, he is going to raise hell.

“I’m sorry.” He says eventually, deciding to play it safe in the crowded area. “Your social worker said–”

“I don’t care.” Ben snaps, perhaps showing too much emotion, he’d wanted to remain utterly indifferent, utterly impassive. He hadn’t wanted to show these people - this family that claims to be his - any aspect of his personality. He hadn’t wanted them to _know_ him, and now, in the first minute of their meeting, he’s already fucked that plan up.

He can hear Anakin’s voice in his head, teaching, berating him, making him stronger. _Emotion is a weakness, Kylo Ren. It’s the only thing people can use against you._

The name change had been Anakin’s idea. He’d gone by Ben until he was ten years old, but only in the traditional sense; Anakin had decided early on that Kylo should be homeschooled, and his schooling experience had been far from normal. Anakin, drunk one night and violently hateful towards his daughter and her family, had wanted to erase any part of her identity found in Kylo.

“Okay,” Han says, swallowing uncomfortably. He lets the cardboard sign dangle between his fingers. Ben averts his eyes and grips at the straps of his backpack just to have something to do with his hands. It hadn’t been difficult, packing his life up into a single rucksack. He has clothes - black hoodies, black jeans and sweatpants, socks and underwear - but nothing else. No books, no trinkets. He has an iPhone 4 tucked into his pocket, the most technology Anakin had allowed him to have.

“Do you need to wait for your luggage?” Han asks, eyeing Kylo’s rucksack like it’s infectious. Kylo wonders how much money these people have, what kind of situation he’s walking into. Maybe he should try and get as much from them as possible before he inevitably moves out?

He shakes his head. Han sighs, as though he were expecting that.

“Shall we go?” He gestures to the exit. Kylo nods briefly, wondering how long he can get by on non verbal responses. Han leads him through the crowd and out into the parking lot with the same commanding presence Anakin always had. They walk in silence, Han in front, Kylo a few paces behind, until they reach a shiny pick up truck taking up two parking spaces.

“Hop in,” Han says, slapping the side of the car like a train conductor. He’s proud of the car, Kylo can tell, probably repaired it himself. He tries to imagine Anakin, elbows deep in the engine of a truck, and almost laughs.

“Leia wanted to be here,” Han tells him as they sail past the exit and veer onto the highway. “She’s been real busy lately, what with everything going on. She’s been putting your room together, and… cooking. She’ll probably have a five course meal ready for when we get back.” He gives a hearty laugh that dies off slowly at Kylo’s lack of response.

“Okay,” Kylo says, monosyllabic. His mother isn’t here. So what? It’s what he expected. He isn’t hurt, he’s not a pussy. His mother abandoned him once and now, fourteen years later, they have to deal with him again because of Anakin’s mistakes. Can he really blame her for not wanting to come and greet him at the airport?

His leg jumps up and down anxiously as they drive. Han switches the radio on at some point to escape the increasingly awkward silence and it’s a welcome relief to Kylo. He’s learned that as long as there’s background music, people are less likely to try and make conversation.

He checks his phone after about an hour of seemingly endless driving. He has no idea where they are, and he should definitely find out. That’s one thing Anakin impressed upon him: never lose track of yourself. Even with those words echoing around inside his head, he doesn’t want to waste his data on checking his location. Who knows when he’ll be able to top up his credit?

He has an email from Phasma that he can’t be bothered to read right now and no other notifications. He didn’t exactly have many friends when he lived with Anakin, so it’s no surprise really.

Kylo almost doesn’t notice when the car slows to a stop, but he looks up when the radio switches off. The silence is sudden and jarring, and it forces him to look up in search of an explanation.

The explanation, it turns out, is that they’re home.

Han, disturbingly enough, it staring blankly out of the windscreen in silence. Kylo considers poking his shoulder but decides against it in the end. What difference does it make to him if they go inside now, or sit in the car for another hour? He doesn’t want to be here with these strangers, and he wants them to know it.

Unfortunately the silence doesn’t last long. It’s obvious that Han is gearing himself up to say something and that mystery is solved when he turns to Kylo and sighs for what feels like the hundredth time since they met.

“Kylo,” He says Kylo’s name like he’s testing how it feels in his mouth, like he doesn’t fully understand what it means yet. Kylo gets that, and a small voice in the back of his mind is telling him to be grateful Han is using his chosen name, but it’s overruled by the fact that this man left his own son with someone he wasn’t even on good terms with. Han Solo doesn’t deserve a say in Kylo’s decisions anymore, and neither does Leia or Luke Skywalker or Kylo’s weird, estranged cousin Rey. Seriously, what kind of family lives like that, all together in one big house?

_And seriously,_ that traitorous voice asks again _, if they had room for all of those people then why didn’t they have room for me?_ All of this, the grandeur of the massive house in front of them, the large family he’s going to be living with from now on, all it is is a slap in the face to Kylo and to Anakin, the only two people who weren’t invited.

Kylo hates them for it. He resents them for it, and as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, it fucking hurts.

“I just wanted to say,” Han continues, fidgeting, his fingers tapping the steering wheel. “I’m glad you’re here. We all are. I’m sorry that everything happened the way it did, but I really hope that you’ll like it here, and that we can make things work. Your– Leia and I really want to get to know you.”

_Sure,_ is all Kylo can think. Phasma probably gave them that on a script so that Kylo would have no grounds to appeal his court order. Just ten more months until he turns eighteen and he can legally get the fuck out of this hellhole.

“Okay,” Kylo says again, because it becomes apparent that Han isn’t going to move without a response. He can see that it’s nowhere near the reply Han was looking for in the way that his shoulders slump and his eyebrows draw together in an unhappy furrow, but really, what does he expect? A hug? A profession of gratitude? What does he _want?_

“Let’s go inside.” Han says eventually. Kylo swings his rucksack over his shoulder again and follows him up the winding pathway towards his new home. It really is incredible. Where Anakin’s house had been small and decrepit, Han’s home is more of a mansion, looking firm and stable with marble pillars on either side of the arching front door. The garden, where Anakin’s had been overgrown and prickly, is perfectly tamed, with neat flowerbeds laid out on the front lawn. Kylo remembers Phasma saying something about Leia Organa being a well-off politician, but he hadn’t really been listening and he can’t quite remember the details. He just hopes above all that he won’t get roped into any news worthy scandals because of this new affiliation. That’s the last thing he needs.

Kylo’s heart pounds against his rib cage as Han turns the key in the lock and opens the door. He’s scared of what - or who - he’s going to find waiting for him inside. He hates these people and he hates Phasma more than ever; if it weren’t for them, he couldn’t be living on his own right now, learning to cope with this new adjustment in his own time and way. 

Instead, he’s here facing down… a welcome home party.

_Honest to fucking god,_ Kylo thinks, _they’ve thrown me a welcome home party._

He recognises Leia Organa easily from the picture Phasma showed him, but also because she has a striking resemblance to his grandfather. She’s wearing a button up blouse and smart trousers. Her hair is immaculately styled and, other than the nervous expression she wears, she doesn’t look stressed at all. It’s clear that this woman has certainly not been cooking up a five course meal, an observation that is only emphasised when two other people come tumbling out of the kitchen.

One is Kylo’s cousin Rey whom he vaguely recognises from Phasma’s photographs. She’s a few years older than Kylo but much smaller. When she smiles, it reaches her eyes. The other person Kylo doesn’t recognise at all, but he figures must be a friend of Rey’s: he’s about the same age, with disheveled, ginger hair and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He’d probably be Kylo’s type, if Kylo had any idea what dating or fucking was like. Anakin had kept a tight leash on him in that regard.

Both of them have aprons tied around their waists, and when they see Kylo there’s a strange sort of nervous excitement in their matching expressions. Luke Skywalker is nowhere to be seen.

Over their heads hangs a lopsided banner emblazoned with ‘WELCOME HOME BEN!’ in crude painted letters. Kylo grits his teeth at the sight of it. He wants to scream at them that this isn’t his home, he doesn’t want to be here, he doesn’t want anything to do with them no matter how much they apologise. He hates them for what they did to Anakin and then what they did to him, and he hates them for screwing up any chances he had at being emancipated.

He hates them for having the audacity to call this place his home, and themselves his family. He hates them for using the wrong name, even though there’s no way any they could have known not to. He hates them because he needs to hate someone, has always needed to direct his anger into something destructive and dangerous.

“Ben…” Leia breathes, almost reverent, like she can’t believe she’s meeting the son she abandoned fourteen years ago. That’s all Kylo can take in one day; having everyone’s eyes on him all at once reminds him of being questioned at the police station and then meeting social services, having to answer questions without knowing what effect his replies would have. He’s exhausted. He just wants to go home, but he doesn’t have a home anymore.

“Please could you show me to my room?” He half turns to address Han, who looks momentarily surprised. It’s the longest sentence he’s said so far and even his father see,s shocked before the resigned disappointment settles in. Kylo notices Han glance at his family and then at the banner hanging above them.

“Of course,” he answers, sadly. Despite himself, he feels quite awkward walking past the entire family - plus one - to get to the stairs. He can feel their eyes on him, can sense their disappointment, tangible in the way they stare. He hates feeling like he’s letting people down, even if they’re people he owes nothing to, and that’s how he feels as Han directs him up the stairs and along a corridor to the right.

As he leaves, he hears a British voice hiss, “I told you the banner was overkill!” He almost smiles.

“I’ll come and get you for dinner, okay?” Han tries to sound casual. Kylo should argue really, should say no or simply shut the door in his face, but he’s just too tired. He wants to be on his own and if agreeing to eat with these people will hurry that along then he’ll do it.

“Sure,” He replies, monotone, dropping his backpack by his feet as he looks around. Han smiles awkwardly, lips stretching across his face like it pains him to do so, before he leaves and closes the door behind him. Kylo’s shoulders sag with relief.

He’s alone, finally, and he doesn’t know how to feel. With Anakin around there was never time to feel empty. Everything was a lesson or an example. You could either feel angry or self righteous, usually both at the same time. 

Why is it that, even though they’re the ones that abandoned him, Kylo feels like he’s letting them down?

He’s had a long day. He hasn’t had a rest since he left his house yesterday morning; since then it’s been a flurry of investigations and interviews and flying across the country. Kylo lies down on his new bed in this strange place and, against all odds, falls asleep within minutes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudos on the last chapter! Hope you enjoy! <3

Kylo wakes up a short while later, when it’s dark outside and the glare of his overhead light brings on a headache. He wonders if Han and Leia have the same type of alcohol that Anakin always had, the type that always seems to cure his migraines.

A quick look at the cracked screen of his phone determines that only an hour has passed since he fell asleep. Nobody has come to wake him up yet he doesn’t think - although Kylo is a light sleeper and he’s sure he’d hear if anyone knocked on the door - but he still feels awkward hanging around in his room. They’ll undoubtedly be talking about him down there, and as much as he doesn’t want to converse with them, he’s still curious as to what they have to say.

He feels slightly shady as he closes the door softly behind him and treads lightly as he heads towards the stairs. This house is big enough to get lost in, and at the very least he’s grateful they gave him a room so close to the staircase. 

There’s a faint buzz from downstairs, a low murmur of conversation that has Kylo straining to overhear. He shouldn’t care, he reminds himself, that what he’s doing is a little below-the-belt. What does it matter? He doesn’t care what they have to say about him, so they don’t need to worry. He’s just curious.

“—think he should see someone?” Kylo hears, a soft, feminine voice he hasn’t heard so far. That must be Rey, and he bristles at the idea that he needs psychological help. That’s just what Phasma had said, that’s why they wouldn’t let him live on his own, but it’s all bullshit. Kylo is  _ fine.  _ Anakin didn’t do whatever they think he did to him.

“Did you see where he had that boy living?” Says an unfamiliar voice. Kylo assumes it’s Luke Sykwalker, Anakin’s son, his other disappointment, Kylo’s uncle. “Did he even go to school?”

Fuck, if they try to make him go to school Kylo is going to scream. He’s smarter than most other kids his age without having gone to high school, and that doesn’t need to change now. He could do without the needless interactions as well.

Kylo is considering taking another step down to hear better when his eyes land on something between the banisters. The man from earlier, the one with the ginger hair and pretty face, is staring right at him with wide eyed wonder. Now without the apron, he swallows nervously and his eyes flicker between Kylo and the others, who are still thankfully oblivious. 

_ Shit, _ Kylo thinks,  _ this is going to be embarrassing. _

But then the man smiles carefully, cautiously, and brings a finger to his lips. 

“Guys,” he calls out, and Kylo’s heart leaps in his chest. “I think I just heard his door shut.”

A hush falls over the family. The man who seems to have aligned himself with Kylo nods once, a friendly allegiance, before rounding the corner and disappearing into the dining room. Kylo waits a few beats before he descends the rest of the stairs.

What he finds is all five strangers in various spots around the dining room waiting, and they all look up with varying degrees of guilt when Kylo enters. He can’t help it when his eyes dart towards the man who helped him just now, and he feels something like a thrill down his spine when the man smiles.

“Hi…” He says awkwardly, gritting his teeth as it tilts up into a question in the last syllable. Way to make himself seem unaffected and calm. There’s one empty seat at the table and Kylo slides into it so that he isn’t just standing under their scrutiny. The silverware laid out looks more expensive than anything Kylo owns and he’s worried his big, clumsy hands will shatter the glass if he tries to drink from it. He wouldn’t feel bad or anything, but it would be embarrassing, and it would suck to have to pick glass out of his hands for the second time this week.

“Did you sleep well?” Luke Skywalker asks, picking up a bread roll and chewing with his mouth open. Then, as though responding to a kick under the table, he curses. “Shit, sorry. I’m Luke, nice to meet you. Kylo, right?” He holds a hand out across the table for Kylo to shake.

On the one hand, he’s glad Luke didn’t stumble over the name like Han and Leia probably will. He’s relieved to see they’ve taken the banner down, at least. Kylo’s eyes flicker between Luke’s face and his outstretched hand, wondering whether he should take it or whether it really matters if he’s rude or not; apparently he takes a little too long to decide, because Luke drops his hand with a shrug and an uncomfortable smile.

“I’m Rey,” the girl says, smiling carefully from the opposite side of the table. She doesn’t hold her hand out to shake but she’s making such direct eye contact that Kylo fidgets in his seat, hoping she’ll look away first. “This is my friend, Hux. He spends a lot of time here.”

Hux smiles as well, but it’s less polite and more conspiratorial. As much as he likes that from someone so attractive, Kylo also hates it. He isn’t here to make friends 

“Nice to meet you,” Hux tells him, sounding genuine. Kylo nods, and then instantly wishes he hadn’t because that’s a response he didn’t give to anyone else and what if they think he’s favouring Hux? What if he–

No. Anakin isn’t here, and he doesn’t care what  _ these _ people think.

“And this,” Han interrupts Kylo’s panicked thoughts. “Is Leia.”

Nothing else needs to be said about that, which is a relief because if Han had introduced her as Kylo’s mother he doesn’t know what he would have done. Leia is watching him with a perpetually surprised expression, like maybe she can’t quite believe he’s really here. When Kylo meets her gaze she flushes.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come to the airport.” She tells her empty plate. “I wanted to. I should have been there to meet you.”

Nobody speaks, and even though Kylo knows he’s supposed to reply now he still has a moment of panic wherein he has no clue what to say. Should he reassure her? Guilt her? Make her think it’s a much bigger deal than it is?

In the end, he just says, “Right.” And waits for someone else to make conversation.

He doesn’t remember his parents. They left him when he was three years old and so, in a way, he’s never missed them. How can you miss something you never had? Anakin was an excellent guardian: he was tough but fair, he taught Kylo everything he needs to know about the world. He never gave hugs and he never told Kylo he loves him, but that’s pussy shit that Kylo would never have wanted anyway.

Even so, looking at his mother sitting there, his father’s arm slung casually over her shoulder for comfort, it’s difficult to ignore the sudden stinging lump in his throat. How could Kylo let them make him feel like that.

He wraps his hand around his fork just for something to do with his hands and sits stock still as everybody around him begins to eat. He wants to block everything out, to go back to the way things were when he lived with Anakin and he didn’t have to overthink everything so much.

“So, um,” Hux clears his throat, apparently the only one brave enough to attempt conversation. “You’ll have to tell us what kind of food we like. Rey and I thought pasta would be a safe bet for tonight, but…”

For some reason, Kylo feels compelled to answer. Leaving Hux hanging - the one person here who has never done him any wrong - doesn’t feel right.

“I’ll eat whatever.” Kylo says gruffly, starting on his meal to prove his point. He’s sure he won’t have the table manners that everyone else has, but he knows nobody will dare point it out.

“Maybe we could teach you how to cook?” Rey joins in, fingers drumming on the tabletop. Kylo inhales deeply in order to avoid glaring at her.

“I know how to cook,” he says sharply. He wishes he didn’t sound so affected by such a stupid thing, but it gets on his nerves. He lived with Anakin Skywalker for fourteen years of his life and she really thinks he doesn’t know how to do something as basic as prepare food? Fuck her. She’s probably making fun of him.

“Oh,” Rey backtracks, sounding apologetic. “Sorry, I didn’t–”

“There isn’t much you could teach me that Anakin hasn’t already.” Kylo says, stupidly engaged. The table falls silent, and Kylo has a moment to think. It’s clear they feel uncomfortable at any mention of Kylo’s grandfather, but the worst thing is how embarrassing it is to care so obviously. Why can’t Kylo ever just stick to anything he plans?

“Sorry,” Rey says again. Kylo looks down at his plate and continues eating, even though his sour mood turns the food to cardboard in his mouth. The rest of the meal passes in tense silence. Kylo’s hands are shaking by the time people start to put their cutlery down and he exhales in relief.

He wants to talk about Anakin. He wants to talk about what a great man he is and how much he’s taught Kylo. He wants to rub it in their faces because he can see that it upsets them; Leia and Luke are exchanging uncomfortable glances and Han hasn’t touched much of the food on his plate.

But more than any of that, Kylo just wants to get out of there. He shouldn’t be here and he knows it, and they know it, and it’s the elephant in the room. It’s drivin Kylo crazy. How can they just sit there and pretend everything is fine when everything is fucked up and it will never go back to normal. Anakin is in  _ prison _ and Kylo blames this selfish, soulless family for abandoning him just like they abandoned Kylo.

He can’t get comfortable here.

“May I leave the table?” Kylo asks. He hates that he has to ask, and really, these people are not Anakin. He shouldn’t have to follow the same set of rules, and yet…

It’s like picking at a scab if he doesn’t. Anakin was so strict about his rules, and what would happen if Kylo didn’t follow one. It’s hard to break an entire lifetime’s worth of habits.

Leia looks at him, surprised and vaguely pleased. It gets under Kylo’s skin, makes him twitch with anger, but he promised himself he wasn’t going to have an episode and he’s going to stick to that. 

“Of course,” she says, gentle, caring, exactly the opposite of Anakin. “Don’t worry about your plate.”

Kylo wasn’t going to, but he’s glad for the excuse to get away even faster. He turns to go, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and digging his nails into his palm so hard that the skin breaks. He can feel their eyes on his back and it sends an uncomfortable shudder down his spine.

“Kylo,” Rey calls out suddenly. He turns around because he has to, but can’t meet her eye. He’s so fucking pathetic sometimes. “Maybe… maybe later, Hux and I could show you around town? There isn’t much to do, but–”

“No, thank you.” Kylo bites his tongue to stop from saying more. The last thing he wants to do is spend even more time with any of them, despite how aesthetically pleasing Hux happens to be. It isn’t like Rey actually wants to go out and give him a tour either: she feels bad for him, she pities him, probably just wants to stop feeling guilty. Kylo doesn’t need anyone’s pity, and he doesn’t need a tour of a town he’s never going to explore. 

“No worries.” Rey replies meekly, sounding disappointed. Kylo pushes the nagging guilt from the back of his mind and turns again, counting the steps as he heads for the stairs and then his bedroom. Once he’s inside, he closes the door and breathes a sigh of relief. That was stressful. If he has to do that every night for the next few months, Kylo is going to lose his goddamn mind.

At the very least, Kylo is grateful for the WiFi here. Living with Anakin, it was intermittent at best and it made it difficult to keep up with things in the outside world. Here, Kylo has no problem pulling out his phone and connecting to the internet.

For the sake of clearing his notifications, he opens his emails and skims over the message from Phasma. It’s all boring legal stuff about Leia and Han being his legal guardians now, a phone call to contact Phasma directly, and the hours he might receive a call from Anakin. That catches his interest. He knows there’s no way for him to see his grandfather. He can’t ask anyone to relay a message and it isn’t like he can pop in for a day visit, so all he can do is keep his phone charged and hope it rings.

He only debates it for a second. Anakin is locked up on the other side of the country but the internet is a powerful thing, and Kylo knows they at least made local headlines. With fumbling fingers, he types in ‘Anakin Skywalker’ and chews his bottom lip as he scrolls through the results. It isn’t exactly a common name.

_ ‘Man sentenced to ten years following court sentence’ _ , one headline reads, and Kylo’s chest constricts suddenly and painfully. ‘ _ Anakin Skywalker, 68, was arrested without bail on Friday following a 911 call from a neighbouring residence. Skywalker was later found guilty of trespassing, petty theft and illegal possession of a firearm. He received a further sentence for the child abuse of his seventeen year old grandson, Ben Solo, who had been in his custody for the past fourteen years. _

Kylo closes the page and tosses his phone on the bed. He doesn’t need to read the articles, he tells himself. They don’t know what they were talking about. Child abuse? Like Kylo was a defenceless five year old? Maybe the other things were accurate, but it wasn’t Anakin’s fault. They’d needed the money.

Kylo still can’t believe it’s his fault they got caught. It’s his fault Anakin is in prison right now.

No, it’s Han and Leia and Luke’s fault. It’s the government’s fault. It’s anyone and everyone who turned Anakin away when he needed them. Anakin was just doing what he had to do to survive, as he was always so fond of telling Kylo, and sometimes that means doing bad things.

_ If you walk all over someone, Ren, don’t be surprised when they grab your ankle. _

Kylo plans to claw his way upwards, even if it means dragging these people down.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! <3


End file.
